Random times when things went south
by MarenMary93
Summary: 2016 reboot fic. Series of one-shots from when things didn't quite go their way. Be prepared for hurt!Mac, hurt!Jack... Basically hurt!AnyoneOnTheTeam...
1. Melbourne

**Okay, so I got his request in a comment to one of my other stories. Think it was "Mama Bozer"… The request was from Hermione2435, and she wondered if I could write a story on Mac's experiences in Melbourne and Kautokeino, or something…**

 **Okay, so figured I might have to post the original text here too, just in case you wanted a reference to the other story without actually having to read through it…**

He had had worse… Cairo for instance, Cairo had hurt worse… Melbourne had been way uncomfortable. Kautokeino had left him unable to anything that required anything of his back for a month…  
Yeah… He had had worse…  
He had…

 **Okay, so… To the story!**

 _Melbourne, July '13._

Looking at the wound, Mac knew it was bad. Not life-threatening, but bad…

He clamped his right hand over the cut in a hope that it was enough to stop the flow of blood spilling from it. No such luck.

Lack of attention had caused him to crash into a pile of trash after jumping a fence. And the reward was a five inch gash on his left upper arm.

But when you have an angry mobster with a gun running behind you, you don't necessarily stop to perform first aid on a cut. Unless… Unless it's life threatening… Which this one, ain't.

Mac dashed over the hood of a parked truck. Landing on all four before he ran off towards the place where he and Jack were supposed meet up if things went south, as it seemed to do a little too often…

His heart almost skipped a couple of beats as he felt the air pressure of bullets whistling past him. That was too close for comfort.

Only 50 more yards before he was at the meeting point. Only 50 more yards until he was so called safe…

He ducked behind a garbage container, a spray of bullets hit the metal beside him.

He used a second to check the wound on his arm. It was bleeding some, not alarmingly much. But it would need sutures once the opportunity arrived.

The bullets peppering the container stopped, and Mac read that as a sign of the mobster re-loading. Also a sign for him to get his ass moving again. So he sprinted further.

He got to the meetup point just as Jack, very gracefully, crashed down the stairs to Mac's left.

"OW! HELL! THAT HURT!" Jack growled as he pushed himself to a sitting position.

"Guy with gun behind me!" Mac almost shouted, pointing towards the guy taking an aim towards them.

"Oh, fuck!" Jack cussed as he threw his gun up and fired towards the other gun wielding guy.

It was a near-hit. A few inches from the guy's torso.

Jack wasn't quite as lucky as the other guy. He was hit by a near-miss. A grace wound peeling off a bit of skin on his shoulder.

"Dammit!" Jack shouted, and emptied his clip towards the guy who had chased Mac.

The guy went down, and clutched his leg. Pain short-circuiting all his plans of shooting Mac and Jack.

"Thanks Jack!" Mac panted. "You hurt?"

"Mostly my ego…" Jack muttered as he looked at the wound on his shoulder. After confirming that it was basically nothing, he looked down at his knees. The jeans were torn open at the knees, the skin beneath was raw and bloody. "And you? You're bleeding…"

"Cut myself on something I landed in…"

"Tetanus shot for you my friend…" Jack prompted as he moved to get up. "Oh, crap! That hurts!"

"What?"

"Ankle… Must've rolled it…" Jack reached for the rapidly swelling joint.

"Bad?"

"Yeah, bad…" Jack grimaced.

"Okay, hospital next…" Mac ordered, "Hey, were there anyone following you?"

"Got rid of them a mile or so ago…"

"Then… Why did you come flying down the stairs?"

Jack gritted his teeth, and refused to answer.

"Jack?"

"Lost my footing… Alright?"

"You lost your footing?"

"It happens, okay?"

"Yeah, okay…" Mac grinned as he helped Jack up, then ducked under one of his arms for support. "Let's get you to a hospital, and get someone to look at that ankle of yours."

"Good idea… And a tetanus shot for you…"

"Had one a few months ago. And those things are active for what? 10 years or so?"

"Okay… Okay… But you do need stitches." Jack sucked a sharp breath as his foot touched the ground. "Guess I'll be a bench-warmer for a while."

"Guess you're right…" Mac nodded, agreeing to both the fact that he needed stitches and that Jack would have to take it easy for the foreseeable future.

 **Okay, so… Guess this is gonna be sort of a one-shot series. I don't really know… Guess you'll have to see…**

 **Hope you enjoyed it though…**


	2. Kautokeino

**Wow, thank you! People in fandoms amaze me, you're all so kind!**

 **Okay, so… On to the next one-shot chapter here…**

 _Kautokeino, March '15._

The mission was over. Everything had gone according to the plan, now they just had to make it out to the extraction point.

The extraction point was 30 minutes of skiing away, if they kept a high tempo.

"Race you to the chopper?" Jack asked with a wicked grin. "Loser has to run the Washington D.C. Marathon…"

"You're gonna be so sore old man!" Mac smirked back, and picked up his speed.

"Maybe, but you're gonna have sore feet from the Marathon!" Jack yelled back and hurried his own pace.

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They were skiing as fast as they could, Jack currently in the leading position, but only by 20 yards or so.

Mac was hanging back, not stressing. He was pretty sure he would win, if he just kept up with Jack until they saw the snowmobiles.

Suddenly Mac's left ski went under the snow crust.

A shocked yelp left his lips as he tumbled down the hill. He stopped hard against a boulder, knocking the air out of him.

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Jack stopped when he realized Mac wasn't skiing behind him anymore. Okay, the shocked scream from Mac had made him curious…

Jack turned around, but couldn't see Mac anywhere.

"Hey Mac!" Jack called out, a bad feeling settling in his gut.

No one answered.

"MAC?"

Still no answer.

He started skiing back in the opposite direction. He stopped when he saw an indentation in the snow.

He followed the landscape with his eyes, and found Mac at the bottom of the hill.

"MAC!" Jack screamed, and set on off down the hill.

He pulled to a stop right by Mac. Who was laying with his eyes wide open, and his features pulled in a grimace.

"Mac, are you hurt?"

Mac nodded, but didn't explain where.

"Where, Mac?"

"Back…" Mac gasped, wincing as the attempt of speaking caused him pain.

"How bad?"

Mac held up seven fingers.

"Seven out of ten?"

"Yeah…"

"That's not good…" Jack sighed, "You feel your legs, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Good. Look kid, I don't want you to move."

Mac gave a minimalistic nod.

"Upper or lower back?"

"Low."

"Okay… I'm gonna put an emergency blanket around you, I'm gonna ski over to the snowmobiles, and then we're gonna break a few laws. Or maybe it isn't breaking a law when it's a rescue mission?"

Jack flicked an encouraging smile, and pulled off his own jacket. Placed it over Mac, and pulled out an emergency foil from one of the pockets.

"You're gon' freeze…" Mac whispered, not supportive of Jack's decision to strip down a layer.

"I'm gonna be in motion, you're gonna lay here… You're gonna freeze…" Jack shot back as he wrapped the foil around Mac. "Just lay still, I'll be back soon."

Mac opted for another small nod.

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Jack reached the spot where they were supposed to meet up with their drivers. They were already there.

"Got a cell?!"

One of the drivers nodded.

"Call 9-1-1 or whatever passes for that around here!" Jack ordered.

"What happened?"

"My partner, he injured his back in a fall a couple of miles away. I don't feel comfortable about moving him without professional help."

"Okay, 1-1-3… That's for medical emergencies…" the same driver said and tugged his phone out from somewhere beneath the upper layer of clothing.

"You have more than one emergency number?"

"Yeah, one for ambulances, one for the police and one for the fire department…" the other driver answered.

"Well, isn't that confusing?"

"Not really, we all grew up with it… And we all know you Americans have 9-1-1, from watching movies and tv-shows." The guy shrugged, "Actually, I think 9-1-1 works too, as a safety measure… I think you get the police then, but they can direct the call to the two other…"

Jack nodded, "Okay, so us Americans are safe enough if we don't know your three emergency numbers."

"I guess…"

"Okay, they're sending a chopper. And they said we could drive in on our scooters, since it's an emergency."

"Good, cause I really wouldn't enjoy having to ski back there…" Jack said bending over, putting his hands on his knees.

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"Any better?" Jack asked as soon as he got back to Mac.

"A little, don't think anything's broken. Just bruised."

"Okay, good… There's a helicopter on the way, they're going to take you to the hospital and make sure there isn't any real damage."

Mac nodded, a little more than he had dared earlier.

"Good, buddy." Jack smiled, and sat back in the snow. It didn't take too long before they heard the rotors of a chopper coming from the south.

"Bet that's them…" Jack gently nudged Mac's right hand.

"Hope so…" Mac whispered, still not trusting the pain in his back enough to speak up loud.

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A few minutes later, Mac was strapped to a backboard. Then he was loaded into the waiting chopper. He got something for the pain, and they flew him to the nearest hospital.

X-rays and MRI ruled out any fractures or dislocations to his spine. But two of his ribs were cracked. His lower back was just bruised, and therefore painful.

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"So, I'm free to go?"

"Well… Yeah…" the doctor nodded, "But I'd advise you to use a wheelchair for a few days. Your back is going to give you a bad time for some time to come."

"Figured so…" Mac sighed.

 **Well, that was the Kautokeino chapter… First started this chap with a bear involved… Then I remembered bears hibernate…I felt so damn stupid. (Can I blame that on pain meds? I'm gonna blame that on pain meds…)**

 **Anyway… Hope you had a good time reading this.**

 **If you have requests, just tell me… I'll see what I can do, can't promise anything though…**


	3. Damsel in distress

**Okay, so I got this idea off of the latest episode, Pliers 1x09.**

 **You know where Jack says that, that way, Mac can swoop in and save a damsel in distress. Then he gives Mac a wink… Okay, I didn't bother to look up the exact words, but that was the general summary.**

 **I nearly died during that scene. I mean, Jack being Jack… *heart-eyes*  
(Seriously, I shouldn't have this big a crush on a man more than twice my age! I'm 23, the actor is 49! But damn, he looks GOOD!  
Okay, all the regular men are nice to look at. And I might have developed a mild girl-crush on Riley…)**

 **Anyway, I don't know if I was supposed to interpret the scene as Jack calling himself a damsel, but that's what happened. And that's how this one-shot came to be…**

Jack Dalton, former Delta, former CIA. Professional superspy working for the Phoenix Foundation. But right now, screwed.

His ears were ringing, his chest was burning. His left arm was trapped under something heavy. The world around him was pitch black, and he couldn't make out what was pinning him down.

He tried to push the heavy thing off himself. Maybe he got an inch, before the weight came crushing down on him again. He squirmed to keep from crying out loud. He wasn't quite sure where he was, or what had happened.

His right hand traveled down to check his pockets. He found what he was looking for in his right back pocket. His cell. He flipped the light on and studied the thing trapping him.

A big freaking log. Pinning him to the forest floor.

He tried to focus on the screen of his phone. His eyes seemed to have a hard time focusing. Everything seemed kinda blurry.

"Knocked my noggin good, huh?" Jack muttered to himself as he tried to dial a number he knew by heart.

He pressed the phone to his ear, and flinched as the buzzing sound in the phone seemed to drive forks through his brain.

"Jack! Where are you?!" Mac almost yelled into his ear once he answered.

"Ow, ow, ow… Hussssh…" Jack groaned, "I'm somewhere in a forest…"

"Yeah, you left the cabin 45 minutes ago! Said you were going for an evening stroll!"

"Well, now I kinda need you to keep your voice down…" Jack winced, "And I need you to do a little search and rescue…"

"Search and rescue?"

" 'M arm's jammed under a fucking tree!"

"You're stuck under a tree!"

"Hush…" Jack winced as his head protested. "Don't scream…"

"You hurt?"

"Ya…"

"Jack… Where?"

"Arm… Think I've got a concussion… Maybe took a few ribs, don't know…"

"Where are you?"

"Don't know…" Jack let out a small whimper. "Mac, please come save me…"

"I will. We will go outside right now!"

"Good, cause this damsel is in extreme distress right now." Jack drawled.

Mac bit back a laugh, before answering in a soft tone.

"We're coming, just hang on tight…"

 **Well, hope you liked that little semi-drabble… I just had to…**


	4. Riley gets a cut

**Hello, again… Hope you're doing fine. I am.**

 **So, I got this request in the comments. It's from an anonymous guest. (I really like when people have accounts, or at least leave some kind of nickname with their reviews or requests… Just saying… But of course if you guys want to stay anonymous, that's okay too… I'm just curious…)**

 **Request:  
** Love this! So cute. Would you mind writing one where Riley is hurt? After "scissors" it would be interesting to see how Jack reacts.

 **So, here it goes…**

"Nice to have a little time off…" Jack smiled, leaning back against a fallen log. "Get a little fresh air and make some memories."

Riley nodded as she took off her backpack and sat down next to Jack.

"What happened to Mac?"

"Oh, something caught his attention… It might take some time before he catches up…" Jack stretched his right leg in front of himself. His knee made an audible pop somewhere in the last few degrees of extension.

"Dude, you should have that checked out…" Riley shuddered.

"Nah…" Jack shook his head, but rubbed at the knee. "Doc will probably just tell me I'm getting old…"

Riley chuckled, "No, but seriously… You should probably have that checked out… I don't want to have to worry about you any more than I already do…"

"Okay, okay… I'll have it checked out…" Jack rolled his eyes.

"Great!"

"WHEN I get old…" Jack decided to add.

"You're impossible… You know that?" Riley raised an eyebrow at him. But then she smiled and nudged Jack in the arm. "But you're the best dad I've ever had…"

Jack smiled and removed his hand from his knee.

"You know what?" Jack looked over at Riley, "You've changed, a lot. But you're somehow still the same…"

"I haven't changed that much…" Riley protested, her eyebrows drawn close together.

"Last time I dragged you out camping, you complained for two days, until Diane decided we should cut the trip short…"

"I was fourteen… It would have been weird if I didn't complain…"

"Guess you've got a point there…"

"I actually liked camping with you… I've gone camping a few times since, because of you…" Riley confessed.

"I'm impressed Ri, real impressed…" Jack noted with a proud smile on his face. "But hey, maybe we should get a fire going? Set up camp before Mac gets here and makes us walk even further…"

"Tired, old man?" Riley teased, pushing off the ground.

Jack's eyes went to his knee, before he looked up at Riley. "We've walked for hours… And Mac is untiring…"

"Yeah…" Riley nodded, looking around. "Say I gather some wood for the fire, and you set up the tent?"

"Sounds like a sweet deal…" Jack said as he pushed himself off the ground.

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"OW! Son of a bitch!"

Riley's exclamation made Jack's head snap towards where she was readying the bonfire.

"You okay?"

"Damn axe slipped…" Riley mumbled, pressing down on her left hand. "Or, well… I slipped. Jammed my hand up in the blade…"

There was blood trickling from her hands.

"Let me see…" Jack almost commanded as he got up and walked over. "How bad is it?"

"Not that bad…" Riley decided as she removed her right hand to look at the new wound on her left hand. "Doesn't bleed too bad…"

"Let me see, Ri…" Jack had one hand on her shoulder, and the other held out for Riley to place her hand in.

Riley did as Jack expected of her, and let him study her hand.

"Looks like it's gonna need some stitches, hun…" Jack locked eyes with Riley.

"Or just some tape…"

"Honey, you want stitches out here… Trust me…"

"Really, I don't need to hike back to the car and take an hour-long drive just to get what? Four stitches…"

"You've obviously never been camping with Mac and me before…" Jack smirked. "Follow me… I've got a first-aid kit in my backpack…"

"So, tape?"

"Stitches…" Jack corrected, and pulled out a small red bag.

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Jack had just finished stitching up Riley's hand when Mac caught up with them.

He had placed nine neat, small, stitches along the wound. If it had been his or Mac's hand, the wound would have been stitched together with two rough stitches…

"What happened?"

"Riley joined the camping team. She's not just an honorary member anymore…" Jack chuckled, knowing that Riley was okay.

"Nothing broken, I hope…"

"Nah, just stitches…" Riley smiled. Showing the neat stitches that would have impressed most cosmetic surgeons. "And I didn't know Jack could do sutures like that…"

Mac studied the stitches as Jack dug through the first-aid kit for some dressings.

"Well, neither did I…" Mac commented raising his eyebrows. "Those are great…"

"So… There…" Jack placed a dressing over the wound, "You're not allowed to use the axe anymore…"

"You know I'm gonna use it the next time I need it, right?"

"Yeah… I know…" Jack shook his head, "Just… Don't scare me again, will you…"

"Scare you?" Mac's eyebrows jumped towards his hairline.

"I think he's scared of my mom…"

"Diane? No…" Jack chuckled, "I just don't want you to get hurt… Like ever…"

"Such a dad…" Riley smirked, then winked at Mac.

 **Okay, I understand if that's not what you expected. And I kinda want to take a second swing at it, but I also wanted a mild chapter.**

 **I know Jack doesn't go off the charts on this one, but hey… It's a relatively small cut.**

 **Hope you enjoyed…**


	5. What grown man wears a leather wristcuff

**Thank you!**

 **Got this idea out of ep 1x11. You know, when Riley rattle on about all the things she thinks are annoying about Jack. His swagger, long stories, accent and the leather wrist cuff…**

 **Let's focus on the leather wrist cuff…**

Gulf war, February 1991

Jack would turn 24 tomorrow. He was in a land far from home, serving in operation Desert Storm. He was in full gear, helmet, bulletproof vest, army boots.

He was running towards the cover of a large rock. His heart was racing, bullets were flying all over the place. His foot caught on something and he stumbled forward.

His right wrist flared up as he landed on it. He just made it behind the cover of the rock. He glanced down at his hand. Something was definitely wrong, his wrist looked odd.

Jack Dalton's home, Los Angeles, January 2017

It was one of the bad days. One of the painful days…

He knew it even before he opened his eyes. Today was going to be awful.

He rolled over to his side and opened his eyes. He glared down at his traitorous wrist. It throbbed and ached. Jack tried balling his hand into a fist. He let out a gasp as his wrist protested. Then he sighed with defeat.

He cradled his wrist to his chest and got up. He trudged over to the bathroom, still guarding the bothersome joint.

Opening the top drawer of the bench, he found a bottle of pills. He shook two on to the countertop and put the lid back on the bottle. Then he took the pills and dry-swallowed them. Then he went on to do his usual business… All the way to the point where he washed his hands.

He then started unbuckling the leather wrist cuff supporting his right wrist. Today called for something more heavy-duty.

The scars from the wrist surgeries shined white towards him. It was five different scars, similar in length, different in width. Attempts of suturing torn ligaments and tendons, fusing a few bones in his wrist… It had all left its mark.

He dug through the lowest drawer, and came up with a splint with Velcro straps. He sat down on the edge of the tub, and started to carefully strap his hand in.

The splint looked similar to a skateboarding wrist guard, only longer. And it gave about the same support as a cast did, given that it was strapped correctly. Jack was familiar with this thing… He had used it for years.

Phoenix Foundation, later the same day

Jack felt self-conscious about the thick black splint around lower right arm. Some of the people he worked with knew the story behind his wrist cuff. He knew the team would have questions… Okay, Mac would only have one…

"Acting up again?" piercing blue eyes stared at the lumpy splint.

"Mhmmm…" Jack nodded, "Think I slept on it…"

Mac shook his head in disbelief, "You don't think it's got something to do with you punching people all of the time…?"

"No, damn thing only acts up on occasion…" Jack drawled, looking over at Mac.

"Still don't think it's healthy to punch people all the time…" Mac crossed his arms in front of him.

"'s not a problem…" Jack shrugged, "Just gotta wear this thing for a week or two, and I'll be fine."

"No punching in the meantime though…"

"Got yourself a deal there kid…"

Mac smiled and hurried ahead of Jack on their way to the briefing room.

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"Jack!" Riley burst out, her eyes wide, "What happened to your arm?"

"Nothing…" Jack sighed as he sat down in an empty chair.

"Then why are you wearing that?" she pointed towards the splint.

"Old wrist injury, ached a little more than usual…" Jack shrugged.

"A little more than _usual?_ " Riley repeated, "Are you telling me that your wrist hurts, like, regularly?"

"Uhuh…" Jack nodded, as he rested his right arm against his chest.

"And you just act like it's not there?"

"Basically…"

"Wait a minute… If your wrist hurts constantly, then why aren't you wearing that thing more often?"

"It's not constantly…" Jack defended himself.

"No, just every day…" Mac decided to add in, earning himself a lethal glare from Jack.

"Why aren't you wearing that splint all the time Jack?" Riley asked again, this time in a more determined tone.

"Because I wear that other thingy… I only need this bad boy on the bad days…" Jack explained nodding in the direction of the splint.

"So that's what's with the leather wrist cuff?" Riley asked as her eyebrows tried to climb all the way up to her hair.

"Yep…" Jack admitted and looked away.

"Then what happened to your wrist? Why do you need the cuff?"

"Back in '91, I landed on my hand ducking for cover. Tore some ligaments and stuff, and dislocated my wrist."

"Ouch…" Riley grimaced in sympathy.

"Mac tries to remind me that I probably over-use my wrist when I punch people…"

"Well, I doubt it's healthy for that wrist of yours to be punching people…" Mac scowled at his friend.

"It's not that bad…"

"No, cause I've seen you shake off a fracture like it's nothing…" Mac stared hard at Jack, then he addressed Riley, "Never trust Jack when he says an injury is nothing…"

Riley nodded.

"Hey, this IS nothing… Just some tired tendons acting up!" Jack shot back.

"Jack, I know your hand hurts. That's not nothing…" Mac tried to reason.

"Seriously, my hand will be fine in a few days… Nothing to worry about…"

"Then what will happen the next time your wrist acts up while we're on a mission?" Riley asked, looking directly into Jack's eyes.

"He'll just power through it…" Mac rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, cause that's apparently his 'thing'." Riley added.

"Don't worry 'bout that…" Jack sighed, "Never really been an issue…"

"Not because your wrist have never acted up…"

Jack shook his head, he couldn't deny that… "But, again… Never really been an issue, always been able to power through it…"

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"Oh, but that's what makes me such a fun guy… Right?" Jack tried to joke.

"Sure, you keep telling yourself that…" Riley smirked and shook her head.

 **Okay, nothing really went south in this chapter… There's just some pain…**

 **Hope you enjoyed it though…**


	6. Winged me

**So, remember that 'Mama Bozer' fic I have going? Yeah, this was the first attempt I did on that… It didn't pan out as I wanted it to, so I decided to thrash it and start over.**

 **But in some way I kinda liked this attempt too, but I didn't see how I could continue it… Until I remembered, I've created a one-shot collection… I can post it there… *face-palm***

 **Stuff you need to know:  
Set after 1x08, so Bozer knows.  
-But he's not yet a part of the team himself… **

"I'm gonna be a bit late…" Mac almost yelled into the phone, covering his opposite ear with his palm. His roomie had picked the perfect moment to call him…

"Is that gunfire I hear?" Bozer almost shrieked back. "It better not be gunfire I hear!"

Mac calculated his chances fooling Bozer, and decided that his chances were close to zero. "Then I'm not gonna say it's gunfire!"

"But it is! Isn't it?!"

"Not gonna say it!"

"Is Jack there?"

"Yeah, he's about a third of the shooting you hear…"

On the other end of the line, Bozer sighed. "Fix some wine rocket or something, and get your ass home!"

"Not everything is like Murdoc…" Mac called into the phone as he prepared to sprint across the lot.

"Gonna be busy a few secs now..." Mac informed.

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Bozer feared his heart jumping out of his chest as he heard someone on the other side cry out in pain. It sounded close, so it had to be either Jack or Mac… And he didn't want any of his best friends being hurt!

"MAC!" He felt close to hyperventilating, "Mac! Are you okay?"

The sound of guns being fired didn't stop, and Bozer stood in the middle of their living room with his heart in his throat. "Mac?"

"Gahhh… Sorry, Boz… Tripped over something, all is good…"

"That something better not be a bullet!"

"It wasn't… It was a root…"

Bozer became aware of how Mac's answers had suddenly been limited to short sentences, and the way his best friend seemed to hold his breath for a second or so each time he paused.

"Mac, you're hurt! I hear it! ARE YOU HIT?"

"I'm okay…"

"No you're not! You're lying!"

In the background Bozer heard Jack asking how Mac's leg was, and chills went down Bozer's spine. He had seen Mac limping slightly every now and then, it was due to an accident in Ita… Bozer smacked himself hard in the face… That accident hadn't been an accident… Or well… It had, but it hadn't been an accident in a slope, no snowboards or skis had been involved. It had been something to do with Mac and Jack running around chasing bad guys, putting their own asses in the crossfire…

"Mac, did I just hear Jack ask about how your leg is?"

"Aha…" Mac agreed.

"Well, how bad is it?"

"Leg's fine…" Mac winced, "Hurt my wrist…"

"Your wrist?" Bozer clarified, "How did you hurt your wrist?"

"Fell…"

Past the noise and the bad reception, Bozer heard Jack comment on the looks of the injury. And he was not pleased when he heard the word gruesome being used to describe it.

"Mac, what the hell is…"

"Got to hang up…" Mac cut him off, "Call you later…"

Then the call died.

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"Man, that's not good…" Jack grimaced as he took in the sight of Mac's deformed and bloody wrist. "Better cut this mission short and get you to a doctor…"

"I can take it…"

"I know you can, question here is if I should let you…" the older Phoenix agent re-loaded his gun.

"Jack, we're almost…" Mac pushed his lips tight together in an attempt to fight the pain radiating from his lower arm. "Almost done…"

"I know that, but I think it's better for you to let someone else take this one… Maybe Chad, or Patty herself?"

"Jack…" Mac warned.

"Dude, there's a bone sticking out of your arm…" Jack averted his eyes, "That is a sign that you should stop what you're doing and rest!"

Mac looked down at the bloody mess that was his right arm. About an inch over his wrist, bone was peeping out of his skin. The whole area hurt like crazy, but he could pinpoint at least three different fractures. The one he saw, one in the metacarpal leading out to his thumb and at least one in the mess of bones forming the wrist.

"Jack, let me finish!"

"Do you have a death-wish or something?" Jack looked back at Mac again, "Because I really don't want to be the one who has to drag your dead body out of here!"

"You won't have to…" Mac took a couple of controlled breaths, "Just cover me… Need to get to that truck over there…"

"You're mad, you know that?"

Mac shot Jack a glare, "Can you do it?"

Jack looked Mac in the eyes, then down at Mac's wrist, then back to his eyes again…

"Can you do it?"

Jack grimaced, of course he could do it…

"I feel like this is the moment to use my seniority and tell you that you call in sick…"

"And I feel like…" a grimace fluttered across Mac's face as he sucked in some air. "Like you should have your gun at ready, cause I'm running…"

"Mac…"

"Ready?"

Jack didn't even manage to say 'no' before Mac was on his way towards the truck. So he did the next best thing and shot everything else which moved… Then he sighed a breath of relief as Mac entered the truck without further damage to his person.

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It took hours, literal hours, before Mac called him back again. Hours upon hours of worry as he waited to hear from his roomie, who was risking his life to save the world on a regular basis. All of which made Bozer more than a little anxious.

His phone started playing, and when he took it out of his pocket to see who was calling, Mac's photo smiled at him.

"Please tell me you're okay!" Bozer said the second he had the phone to his ear.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about…"

Bozer felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. "So… Injuries? Anything I need to know about before you two get home. And I'm including Jack here, cause he has to be tired too…"

"Jack's on his way back to his apartment now, he's fine… Told me he wanted to sleep for like a week…"

"And you? What kind of injuries did you get?"

He could hear Mac sighing on the other end of the line. A telltale sign that Mac really didn't want to admit to being hurt.

"Broke my wrist…"

Bozer nodded, waiting for more information. When that information didn't come, he continued his questions.

"Broke your wrist… What kind of break? Open, closed, greenstick? Come on, tell me man!"

"Errr…"

"You're hesitating…" Bozer commented and his hope dropped, "When YOU hesitate, it means; Imagine the worst scenario possible, and it's just a little bit worse than that…"

"Hey, it's not that bad… They put a cast on it, and Amanda from work is driving me home now…"

"You didn't need any surgery, that's good… That's always a good sign…"

When Mac didn't answer, Bozer realized something.

"They did do a surgery?" he almost growled into the microphone, "Because you go to the front of the line at any hospital you flash your credentials, and for 14 hours to pass, the mission either took forever, or somebody fixed you up!"

Just as he was finished scolding Mac, he heard a car pull up outside.

"That you outside?"

"Yep…"

"I'm coming out…" Bozer said and hung up the phone before Mac had a chance to stop him.

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Bozer was angry, mad as a hornet, angry… Until he saw Mac sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for Amanda to walk around the car and open the door for him.

He looked so fragile and helpless with his right arm nestled into a sling. Bozer's anger died away instantly.

He watched as Amanda held the door open for Mac, as he placed his feet on the ground and prepared to get out. Mac's whole figure screamed hurt. The way he moved slowly, the way he guarded his arm… The way he actually needed a hand to get out of the low sedan.

Bozer couldn't be angry…

"You…" Bozer paused, "Do you have a bag or something I should carry for you?"

Mac shook his head slightly. Just a minimal of movement, like it would hurt to do it properly.

"Thought you said it was your wrist?" Bozer thought out loud, "Why is your arm in a sling?"

"Some guy winged me…"

"Winged you?"

"Shot him in the shoulder…" Amanda clarified, as she closed the passenger door.

"Someone shot you?" Bozer's eyes went wide.

"Clean shot, didn't hit anything that won't heal with a little time and some physical therapy when the time calls for it…"

"And where was Jack when that happened? Isn't he the one that makes sure you don't get yourself killed?"

"He was behind the rifle that fired that bullet, making sure I didn't die…"

Bozer's face scrounged up as he took in all the information.

"Are you saying he shot you?!"

"He had to…"

"I thought his job was to keep you safe! Not shoot you!"

"It was one of those 'shoot-the-hostage' kind of things… I had to threaten him to do it…"

"Still shouldn't shoot you!"

"It was the only way any of us would survive…" Mac pressed his eyes shut, trying his best to ignore the pain, "It's not like it's the first time I've taken a bullet…"

"No, but you should not get shot. Period!" Bozer almost yelled at Mac, more out of fright than anger. Then he turned to Amanda and addressed her. "Does he have all his meds? Anything else I should know?"

"Meds are in an orange thing in his jacket…" She looked over at Mac, looking like she was weighing her words. "Jack really didn't want to do it… It took fifteen minutes of Mac begging Jack to do it… And a direct order from Thornton…"

Suddenly he felt a pang of guilt or something for judging Jack. "And Jack…? Where is he?"

"At home…"

"Alone?" Bozer felt panic rise in him.

"Riley's with him…"

Bozer let out a relieved breath, with Riley by his side, Jack would probably not do anything stupid.

"Okay, thanks… Have a safe drive back home!"

Amanda nodded and got in the car, then sped off.

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Ten minutes later, Bozer had Mac propped up on the couch.

"Pain meds?"

"Rather not…"

"Mac, you're white as a sheet…"

"Yeah, but they already pumped me full of something…" Mac sighed scowled down at his arm. "Don't want to mix meds, Done that mistake a couple of times already…"

Bozer nodded, "Hungry?"

Mac shook his head ever so slightly. Afraid that anything would start hurting worse.

"Thirsty?"

"Nah…"

"Need to talk about what happened?"

Mac shook his head again, still just barely.

"Is Jack okay?"

"Physically. Yes…"

"And you gonna be alright the next time you see him?"

Mac nodded as much as he dared, "I told him to shoot me… Only problem I have is that he used so much time before he actually did it…"

"Well, aren't you the picture of mental health?" Bozer rolled his eyes.

 **Okay, hope you enjoyed this one-shot too.**


	7. Winged me, pt 2

**Well, a few of you requested this, so here it goes. 'Part 2' of 'winged me'. Mac and Jack meet up for the first time after Jack shot Mac…**

Jack immediately felt sick as he realized who was outside his door. Like, really… He got the shakes from it…

"Mac…?" he asked in a whisper, almost afraid of mentioning his friend's name.

"Hey-a Jack…" Mac grinned back, adjusting the sling around his neck. "How're you doing?"

Jack was left staring at the blond in front of him, his mouth was hanging agape. He couldn't speak, couldn't really move. He was left there, staring at Mac.

And Mac… Mac had an unabashed grin on his face, not one easily related to being shot by your best friend less than 72 hours ago.

"May I come in?" Mac finally asked when Jack didn't make a move for almost a minute.

Jack moved to let Mac in, his mouth still hanging open in shock.

"I guess coffee is in the pot?" Mac assumed as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Uhuh…" Jack nodded, following Mac into the kitchen. Looking at Mac like he would catch fire at any moment.

Mac poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Waiting for Jack to follow suit.

"How's the… eh…" Jack gestured towards his own right shoulder. Guilt was etched into his face, as he moved towards the coffee pot.

"Not bad…" Mac answered and took a sip of his coffee. "But I started worrying for you…"

"Why?" Jack asked rubbing his own neck.

"When was the last time you went two days without texting or calling me?" Mac reasoned, "Or without showing up at my door?"

Jack shrugged, looking down at his boots.

"Well, the answer is next to never…" Mac answered for him, sitting back in his chair. "Well, unless I count the times you've been hospitalized with some kind of serious injury…"

"So?"

"So I know you're dealing with some shit…"

A nervous laugh escaped Jack's lips, as he started to knead the area around his right wrist. Just like it was bugging him.

"Nah, Mac… I'm all good…" Jack lied, still massaging his wrist.

Mac's eyes fell on the leather cuff on Jack's wrist. The fact that his friend was working his bad wrist worried him. But he wasn't quite sure what the reason was. It could be that Jack's wrist acted up, but it could also be one of those rare nervous ticks of his.

"Wrist acting up?"

Jack stopped what he was doing and crossed his arms in front of his chest instead. Then he shook his head.

"No, it's fine…" Jack bit his lower lip as he pushed off the counter, and walked over to the table himself. He picked his usual spot at the end of the table. The seat gave him a great view of the door from the hallway and the entrance area through the window. Jack liked having an overview, old habit from all his years as an active agent. "How are you, kid?"

"Not all bad," Mac looked down at his own arm, "Wrist hurts a bit though…"

"Shoulder? I feel so bad about that…" Jack's brown eyes were locked on Mac's shoulder. There were no trace of a smile on his face or in his eyes, his expression bordering on despair.

"Well, I'm not dead…" Mac shrugged his good shoulder, "We're both alive… That guy didn't get a chance to blow up the entire building… That's what matters."

"I feel awful… I shouldn't have… I should…" Jack blinked wildly, and a tear ran down one of his cheeks. "I should have looked better after you, I shouldn't have let Krill get so close to you. He should never have been able to grab you in the first place."

"Jack, that one was on me…"

"NO, it wasn't!"

"Yeah, it was…" Mac sighed, "I shouldn't have put you in a position where you had to shoot me. I know that was hard for you…"

"Hard for me?" Jack's voice cracked, "Kid, I swear it almost killed me! What if I missed? What if I hit an artery? What if you bled out before medics got there? What if…"

"Jack, you're an expert shot… I trusted you…"

"I might be great at hitting targets, kid, but I'm not a surgeon!" Jack broke down crying, folding in over the table. "I could accidentally have hit something major in you kid, I could have killed you!"

"But you didn't. And I know you wouldn't…"

"How the hell did you know that?" Jack called out, "I didn't even know that!"

"I'm okay. Okay?" Mac leveled his eyes with Jack. "I only have one thing to ask of you…"

"What?"

"Next time I ask you to shoot me in a situation like that…" Mac held Jack's eyes for a couple of seconds, "Please hurry up and do it… Waiting was the worst part…"

"Not funny Mac…" Jack deadpanned, "And you're lying… Getting shot hurts like hell."

"Well, one way or another… You've got to stop beating yourself up about it. It was my idea, I gave the order. I'm a little pissed that Thornton had to give you a direct order, but…"

"Mac. The order was to shoot my best friend. I didn't know if I could make the shot without killing ya…" Jack wiped away the tears running down his cheeks. "And you know I'll be beating myself up over this until you're fully healed and back in the field. Probably longer too…"

"Yeah, I know…" Mac grimaced, "But you shouldn't. You were following orders…"

"Orders or not, that doesn't make me feel any better. I shot you, you're hurt because of me…"

"Technically, I was hurt before you shot me…"

"Yeah, your hand. But I hurt your shoulder too…"

"Well, if it's any consolation at all… The wrist hurts worse than the shoulder…"

Jack just glared at Mac.

"Okay, enough about this whole thing. I told you to shoot me. After an eternity, you did… You saved me and over a thousand other people." Mac leaned on the table with his uninjured arm. "That's the cold, hard, facts. Focus on that…"

Jack sighed, and was about to argue when Mac cut him off.

"Now, I know how you get when your head is in the wrong place. Because it's the only time when you stop eating… And I also know that your body demands a little more food than mine, because you remember to eat regularly… Mostly…" Mac fished his phone out of his back pocket, "How 'bout we order some pizza and focus on something else entirely."

"Like what?"

"That hot news reporter? I don't know… Just, something else…"

"You trying to make me deal with my emotions the real Jack Dalton way again?"

"Uhuh…" Mac grinned back, "Figured I'm your soft-spot, and that you couldn't just sweep all of this under the rug on your own…"

"Riley ratted me out?"

"Yeah, she did…" Mac nodded, "Now, what do you say… Order pizza, forget that Monday ever happened, at least until it's just another story to tell the new guy?"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle.

"Okay, you've got yourself a deal…"

"I mean, even Cairo will soon be one of those stories."

"Hey, we STILL don't talk about Cairo. Okay?"

"You've got to let that one go soon… It's been years."

"Yeah, well… I've still got an unflattering scar, in the middle of…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know… I was there, remember?" Mac grossed as he squeezed his eyes shut, "Don't need to paint me a picture of how it looks now. I've seen my share of old GSW scars."

"Kid, you do have a couple of them yourself…"

"Yeah… I know…"

"So, when are you starting to wear shorts again? It's what, five years since Cairo?"

Mac didn't answer, just looked towards his right thigh.

"Huh, kid?"

"Okay, fair point…" Mac answered shaking his head from side to side, "But now. Pizza!"

"Pizza, my favorite emotional band aid…" Jack almost smirked as he pushed himself off the chair, "But seriously, bud… You gonna be alright?"

Again, he gestured to his own shoulder area, making sure Mac knew what he meant.

"Yeah, Jack. I'm gonna be just fine…"

 **Okay… So I know that they both might be a little OOC here. Sorry for that…**

 **I know this was probably not what those of you who requested this one-shot had in mind…  
But I hope you had fun reading it anyway…**


	8. Elbow

**Okay, here's another one-shot for you. This one is pre-series.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

Mac dreaded the moment he would have to walk through the doors to the apartment he shared with Bozer. Coming home after missions wasn't always a pleasant experience. At least not when you came home hurt, for the third time that year. And yeah, it was only February…

He had twisted his ankle on New Year 's Day. A few weeks later, he had his left arm sliced up good by a broken window. And now? Well, his right arm was in an L-shaped cylinder cast, and it was supported by a sling.

Bozer would have questions. Questions Mac couldn't answer truthfully.

He glared down at his hand, flexing and bending his fingers a bit. At least he didn't need a full long arm cast, he would take that as a win. Even if his elbow held 20 staples and five pins under the cast…

He stopped outside the door. It was 4 p.m. and Bozer was on the early shift this week, which meant that he was probably already at home. No time for Mac to settle in and rehearse a story to go along with his fractured elbow.

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"Yo, Mac!" Bozer called out, not looking up from whatever he did in the kitchen, "Dinner's ready in 20!"

Mac almost sighed in relief, at least he had a chance to sneak over to his room and relax, before Bozer went into the mode Mac liked to call Mama Bozer mode.

"Good, I'm just gonna go read an article I downloaded." Mac informed as he strode towards his bedroom.

"Alright, you want me to call out when the food is on the table?" Bozer asked, still focusing on the cooking.

"If you don't mind… You know how I can lose track of time…" Mac smiled, partly because he now was out of Bozer's line of sight, and partly because his friend was so considerate.

"Okay, get as lost as you will. I'll make sure you remember to eat!" Bozer chuckled as he put something in the oven.

"Thanks Boze!" Mac let his head fall back as he put his left hand on the door handle to his room.

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He flipped down on his bed. He laid the wrong way, with his feet resting on top of the headboard.

His elbow ached, but not more than expected. The landing he had taken had been spectacular, and painful. Turned out, he was not as proficient at lunch tray surfing wile hanging in a rope after a bus as he wished to believe he was. The whole thing had ended with a good set of scrapes and bruises, and one severely painful elbow.

The elbow had been checked out by medical professionals thanks to Jack Dalton. Which was a good thing, because the upper of the ulnar bone and the lower end of the humerus had chipped off.

The most embarrassing part was that Jack had managed to stay with the bus and stop the situation.

He didn't even notice he dozed off until Bozer hammered at his door, letting him know that the burgers were done.

"Alright, I'm coming!" Mac called as he struggled to a sitting position.

He cast a glance down at his hand again, his palm was scraped up. What should he tell Bozer? He had fallen asleep and hadn't made up a cover story. He eyed the sling, how bad could this be? How would Bozer react.

Mac opened the door, and came face to face with Bozer.

"Dude, you fall asleep or what?" Bozer asked rolling his eyes.

"Yeah… Guess so." Mac answered, rubbing his eyes.

"What the hell happened to your arm!?" Bozer demanded in a high-pitch voice. "Why is there a cast on your arm? Why are you wearing a sling!?"

"Broke my elbow…" Mac answered wrapping his left hand over his right.

"HOW?"

"Tried to show off for someone… Messed up."

"Well, I hope you got her number! Because your arm looks messed up!"

"It's not that bad…"

"How long you in a cast for?" Bozer barked, gesturing to the pristine white cast.

Mac mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?"

"6 to 8 weeks…" Mac mumbled a little louder.

"6 TO 8 WEEKS! How is that not so bad?"

"…I didn't need to have cast covering my hand…" Mac attempted.

Bozer exhaled slowly, trying to center himself and calm down.

"Mac, tell me… How did this happen?"

"A guy named Jason brought his skateboard… I showed off a few tricks…"

"And you…"

"I landed on my arm…" Mac feigned shame. "Wasn't as skilled as I remembered myself being…"

"What are you talking about?" Bozer raised his eyebrows, "I've seen you skateboard. You're good at it…"

"Apparently not good enough…" Mac shrugged.

"Klutz…" Bozer whispered shaking his head, "Anyway… Burger's are ready… Good luck eating with only one arm…"

 **Okay, so… There has to have been a lot of times when Mac came home hurt, and wasn't able to hide it.  
And I guess you know me, shameless H/C writer and all…**


	9. Mac injures his shoulder

**So, just another update from me…**

 **Has a slight tag to one of the episodes, I couldn't help myself…**

"Oh, man!" Jack gasped as he rolled over on his side, "I could kiss you right now!"

Mac grimaced and looked back at Jack, "Sorry, you're still not my type, Jack… Too much stubble…"

"Yeah, right…" Jack chuckled and let himself fall back against the ground. "Good jump, kid."

Mac lifted his head off the ground, enough to see the gap he and Jack had jumped with a motorcycle.

"Good driving…" the older agent grinned, "Sure you haven't done motocross earlier?"

"Yeah, I'm sure…" Mac clenched his jaw, grimacing as he tried to move his right arm. "You think they're coming after us?"

"Not unless they sprout wings…" Jack grinned, rolling over on his stomach. He offered the ravine they had just jumped one last look.

"Good." Mac exhaled slowly, "But there is another thing you can do for me…"

"Alright, what?" Jack asked, narrowing his brows at Mac.

"You could help me pull my shoulder back in…" Mac winced as he sat up, carefully cradling his right arm.

"You hurt?" Jack asked, suddenly more alarmed.

"Dislocated my shoulder."

"Wait, I landed on something…" Jack pushed himself off the ground, "Was that you?"

Mac didn't answer.

"WAS THAT YOU?"

Mac gave away and nodded, "Yeah… That was me…"

"Kid, I'm so sorry!"

"Just help me get the shoulder back in, and it'll all be forgiven…" Mac inhaled sharply as he attempted to turn towards Jack and his shoulder jarred.

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"Kid, sorry… But I can't help you with that shoulder…" Jack scrounged up his nose as he took the deformed joint in.

"Sure you can…" Mac grumbled back, "Just pop it back in…"

"No, Mac…" Jack sighed, "I think the better plan is to stabilize it as it is…"

"Jack, just get it back in…"

"Mac, it's broken. I'm not going to mess around with it…" Jack declared, zipping Mac's woolen sweater up again.

"Broken?" Mac questioned, "Can't be…"

"Your collarbone is trying to poke through your skin…" Jack frowned, "Your shoulder is dislocated, you're right about that… But that doesn't explain the weird angle your upper arm takes a few inches south of your shoulder…"

Mac frowned and tried moving his hand, and gasped when a shooting pain traveled up his arm.

"Maybe you're right…"

"I know I'm right…" Jack said as he shimmied out of his own sweater. "Good thing we're almost at the extraction point…"

Mac nodded gingerly, still holding his arm tight to his chest.

Jack smirked as he tied the sleeves together, "You're gonna be fine, kid. Now, let's put that arm of yours in a sling, and get the hell out of here…"

Mac nodded, but shrunk down as Jack started maneuvering his arm into the makeshift sling.

"Does it hurt?"

Mac tried to shake his head and reassure Jack that it wasn't all that bad, but his attempt to do so was cut short by a string of cusswords as something inside his arm moved.

"Stupid question, right?" Jack almost chuckled. "Guess I'll be driving from here on out…"

Mac made a feeble attempt at nodding,

"I'm looking forward to seeing you explain this to your girlfriend…" Jack offered a big shit eating grin, and chuckled as Mac frowned at the thought.

"At least I have experience from lying to Bozer…"

"That was years ago Mac… And Bozer would believe whatever you told him…"

"I could tell her your fat ass landed on me…" Mac ground out, "She would get a laugh out of it…"

"Very funny, very funny…" Jack sighed.

"I'll probably tell her I slipped down the stairs…" Mac looked up at Jack, "Some everyday stuff like that…"

 **Hope you had fun reading this.**


	10. Bozer takes care of Mac and Jack

**Okay, so… Latest ep 1x12. LOVED IT!  
(SPOILER:But hope Patty turns out to be one of the good ones anyway…)**

 **I don't think there's any way of hiding my MAJOR crush on Jack by now. That train left the station long time ago, I know…  
And I might have found a new vice… Drugged up Jack.  
Or two… Karaoke Jack is also pretty awesome. Not necessarily pretty, but still pretty perfect.**

 **And Mac? Found a new vice connected to him too…  
A little grease on his hands and working on a motorcycle? That's a nice way to get a girl's blood pumping…**

 **Now, let's torture one of them… Or both…**

"How are you doing there?" Bozer asked as he carried a casserole over to the dining table.

"Peachy…" Jack answered in a grumpy tone.

Bozer held back a smirk as he walked over to his friends sitting on the couch.

They sure didn't look like superspies at the moment, Bozer felt sorry for them, but found it a little amusing that they were about as harmful as baby kittens in their current state.

"Dinner's ready boys…" he gestured towards the dining table, "Any one of you need any help getting up off the couch?"

Mac rolled his eyes, and stood up. He was guarding his left arm and side. His moves were painstakingly slow and careful, but he managed to get himself over to the table.

Bozer didn't move, he kept standing in his spot waiting for Jack to try to get up.

The older man used his left leg and his hands to help guide his right leg off the ottoman he had it rested on.

The task was obviously painful, given the grimace on Jack's face as he guided the cast towards the floor. He tried pushing to a standing position a couple of times. Hissing in pain each time he failed and slumped back down on the couch.

"Need help man?" Bozer asked again, holding out a hand for Jack to grab a hold of.

Jack tried one more time on his own, before he gave in and nodded.

"Yeah… I ain't getting up on my own…" Jack mumbled in a defeated tone, grabbing a hold of Bozer's extended arm. "Look, my balance is really shit right now… So when I get up, can you just steady me until I pick up my crutches?"

"I can do you one better, brother…" Bozer smirked and picked up Jack's crutches with his free hand, leaning them against his own chest. "Ready?"

Jack furrowed his brows in concentration, then nodded. He couldn't help to let out a gasp as he was pulled to a vertical position, his face contorting in a grimace.

"You alright man?" Bozer asked, placing one hand on each of Jack's upper arms to steady the man.

"Yeah-yeah…" Jack grumbled, taking the crutches and placing them under his arms. "Just can't wait for this fracture to heal up…"

"Not to ruin your mood, but you broke your leg yesterday…" Bozer sighed, "And doc said it was a complicated one… Lucky you didn't need extensive surgery…"

"A few bolts and pins is enough for me, thanks…" Jack scowled down at the black cast, willing his leg to heal faster. "Hurts like hell though…"

Bozer felt sorry for his buddies. Mac with the bruised ribs and dislocated shoulder, and Jack with his leg. But he had come to realize that his friends' occupation was one where injuries was the medallion's backside. And no field agent was too good to get hurt on occasion. But both of them getting injured on a single mission, that was a little unusual.

"If you want to know… You look pretty helpless on those crutches…" Mac smirked from where he sat at the table.

"Well, I'll let you in on a little secret, little boy…" Jack answered with a deep frown as he shuffled over to the table himself. "You look pretty pathetic with that sling too…"

Mac chuckled and was painfully reminded of his injured ribs. The whole thing was displayed nicely with a grimace fluttering across his face, causing Jack to grin just a little bit.

"Told you not to pick fights with chicks three times your size…"

"Well, I told you not to try to jump out of that moving truck first…" Mac tossed back as soon as his ribs allowed him to speak.

Jack rolled his eyes and sat down on the chair, then carefully guided his leg up on a spare chair at the end of the table.

"Yeah, guess you're right there…" Jack chuckled, "That was a bonehead idea, right?"

Mac nodded, "It was…"

"Seriously though, that chick was huge. Not fat, but muscle huge…" Jack chuckled lightly, "Even I would have second thoughts about going hand to hand against her…"

Mac raised an eyebrow, looking at his older friend.

"I mean, I probably would have won though… But I would have been a little nervous about it…"

"Hey, I did win…"

"Yeah, because of that ginormous brain of yours… And a few dirty Jack Dalton tricks…" Jack grinned widely. "Proud of you, kid… Defending our honor as agents, even when I'm incapacitated…"

Mac chewed on his chin not to laugh, well knowing that it would hurt if he did.

"Well, let's just hope it's a while until both of you meet the female version of John Cena again…" Bozer said sitting down at his regular spot. "It was NOT fun to be back at the Phoenix listening to you two getting injured… But now I get to nurse the two of you back to good health, so you just let me take care of you. Deal?"

"As long as you don't go overboard…" Mac and Jack sounded in unison. They had both been victims of what they liked to describe as 'Mama Bozer mode' before, and knew that it could get to the point where they weren't allowed to do anything by themselves.

"Alright, alright…" Bozer held his hands up in surrender, "But I do get to make sure you have enough to eat! Because y'all are getting skinnier, and I am talking about the both of you!"

"I'm not skinny…" Jack scowled back, arranging his shoulders to look more intimidating.

"You have gotten skinnier…" Bozer shrugged, "I mean, you should eat more… That work you do is making you burn calories faster than what I can shove them in you…"

"Not a chance…" Mac grinned, "Have you seen what that guy eats during a gig?"

"No, but I've seen that his clothes are starting to hang around him…" Bozer teased back.

"You're just saying that to get me to eat more… Ain't you?" Jack finally accused Bozer.

"You would be correct…" Bozer grinned back, "Now, eat!"

"You do know you never have to trick me into eating, don't you?" Jack asked as he placed a mountain of pasta on his plate. "I do that all by myself, you know… Mac on the other hand…"

"Hey, I'm not that much smaller than you!" Mac shook his head, "And I'm guessing that it's mostly because I'm a few years younger than you!"

"Keep using that as an excuse kid… Keep using that as an excuse…" Jack smirked, and took a sip of water.

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"You know what?" Jack said after the three of them had returned to the couch after the meal.

Bozer and Mac shook their heads, waiting for Jack to reveal what he was thinking.

"Getting hurt sucks a little less when you've got good friends to take care of you…"

Mac nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it is kinda nice…"

 **Okay, so… The oneshot itself didn't have too much to do with my ramblings at the beginning… But that's okay…**


	11. Jack's wrist after a night on the town

**Okay, so… Out of my own need for this, this happened.  
Partly because I woke up with the worst case of alcohol-related angst I've ever taken part of… Thank God no one agreed to be shotting Tequila with me… That could have turned out even uglier…**

It was swollen, black and blue and a whole bunch of other colors no wrist or hand should take on. Yeah, he had messed up this time… Big time…

Jack grimaced as he rolled over to his stomach and leaned on his elbows, as the fingers of his left hand carefully started unbuckling the wrist cuff he wore on his right. The bruised wrist throbbed steadily against the black leather, and Jack didn't look forward to what kind of 'situation' might greet him as he got the leather removed.

He sucked a sharp breath as pain shot up his lower arm.

"Oh, fudge!" Jack growled, stopping his attempt of getting rid of the supporting wrist-cuff. "Damn, that hurt!"

He sat up and studied his hands. There were bruising and small cuts all over his knuckles, that hadn't been there before he painted the town last night. That, and his wrist hadn't been this damn painful. Painful, yes… But not to this extent. No, now something felt _wrong_.

He got up and walked slowly into the kitchen. He would get some coffee going, and then he could address the problem with his wrist afterwards. He sure didn't look forward to it.

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Just as he had pushed the button on his old but trusty coffeemaker, the thing was older than Mac, his phone buzzed.

 _'_ _Hey man… Just checking  
in, are you awake and  
âlive?'_

Jack half-grinned, half-grimaced as he read the words from Mac.

 _'_ _Yeab, sute…'_

He didn't care for any lengthy answers, after all… His dominant hand was burning with the fire of a thousand bee-stings.

 _'_ _Taking that as yeah, sure  
How are you holding up?  
Last night was kinda  
wild. You punched out a  
guy hitting on Riley…'_

A flash of memory downloaded into Jack's mind. Okay, so that was what had happened…

He looked at his phone, the message would require more of an answer than his poor hand was up for, so he fumbled with the phone and dialed Mac instead.

"So that's what happened…" Jack just continued where their conversation through text had stopped.

"Yeah, he didn't get the memo when Riley blew him off the fifth time… Let's just say you defended your daughter's honor." Mac chuckled. "And then you demanded whiskey afterwards…"

"Yeah, cause my memory consists of black holes…"

"Scale 1-10… How hungover are you?"

"2, I guess… Thirsty as hell, think all the sand of Sahara relocated into my mouth…"

"Screw you!" Mac deadpanned, "My head hurts like utter hell. And you drank more than me…"

"Genes…" Jack smiled, "I've got genes made for this…"

"Dude, I hate you so much right now…"

"You're not alone…" Jack winced looking down at his right hand, "Are you in a condition to drive?"

"No, why?"

"Anyone else at your place ready to drive?"

"No… WHY?"

"I need someone to drive me…" Jack let out a soft chuckle.

"Jack, I understood that… WHY do you need someone to drive you, and WHERE?"

Jack grimaced as he sat down on one of the cheap kitchen chairs, and rested his right arm carefully on the kitchen table.

"I need someone to drive me to the ER, or to the Phoenix Foundation so I can visit the medical staff there, but preferably the ER…"

"What did you do?"

"Screwed up…" Jack admitted, hoping that that would do.

"Jack… Humor me…"

"Screwed up my wrist…"

"Right one?" It wasn't as much of a question as a statement.

"Yup…"

"So that was the deal with the whiskey…"

"I guess…" Jack almost moaned, "Honestly, kid, I didn't even remember getting in a fight…"

"Think Bozer caught it on tape…"

Jack let out a shaky sigh, "Please tell me you can delete that…"

"I can, but I won't…"

"You could at least have the decency not to sound like you're smiling…"

"I could, but I won't…" Mac repeated, with the same smug tone in his voice. Before he dropped the cheery tone, and asked, "But in all seriousness… How bad is your wrist?"

Jack glared down at the achy limb, taking almost half a minute before he made up an answer.

"I think the fix for it drifts somewhere between a cast, and surgery…"

"Bad, huh?"

"Yeah, bad…" Jack confirmed, "I haven't even been able to get the cuff off yet. Thought it would be better to crawl into the splint…"

"But you couldn't?"

"I couldn't even finish unbuckling the damned thing!" Jack shot back, partly annoyed over Mac, partly over his own incompetence…

"I can walk over to your place… Be there in fifteen, if you need help…"

Jack shook his head, but remembered they were on the phone.

"No, I'll just walk over to the neighbor. He owes me one…"

"And what do you plan to tell him?"

"I got a little too drunk, and I fell… Apparently caught myself the wrong way…"

"And what will you say about the scratches and bruises your knuckles obviously must have?"

"He thinks I'm a stuntman too… I'll make up some little lie that it's from a fight scene…"

"You actually made a good choice of making that our cover-story for the pizza boy that one time… Good call…"

"Yeah, I think he deserved some kind of explanation after the fifth time he delivered pizza to us after some mission had left us both in some kind of cast, splint or sling…"

"Yeah, think he started to get nervous on our behalf after the second time…" Mac agreed.

"OW! FUUU!" Jack yelped, almost dropping the phone in the process.

"You alright there buddy?" Mac grimaced as Jack's sudden outburst echoed throughout his head. He could hear his partner panting on the other end of the line, trying to get his composure back.

"Just… Just tried to push off on the table… Bad idea…"

"I thought you were used to an aching wrist…"

"An aching, yeah… This, NO!" Jack growled, holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder. His left hand steadying his right wrist.

"Jack… Get yourself to the doctor…"

"Yes mom…"

"Ha-ha, funny…"

"But I must find someone to drive me first…"

"Good luck with that… Maybe your neighbor can drive you?"

"Actually, I didn't think of that…" Jack admitted, and cleared his throat, "That's not a bad idea…"

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A few hours later, Jack's leather wrist-cuff was replaced by a brand new cast, and his wrist held an additional two pins and one screw.

Yeah, he wasn't about to punch anyone with that fist for a while…

He couldn't hold back a smile when he walked out to the parking lot, and saw a familiar red Jeep waiting there. He walked over to it and knocked on the window, chuckling as the young blond man startled awake in the driver's seat.

"You came to pick me up?"

Mac rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and nodded.

"Yeah, I got Thornton to call and ask when you were done. Figured you could use a ride back home."

"Thanks…"

"So, you wanna go home?"

Jack looked down at his cast, and back up at Mac. "I'm hungry as hell…"

"We could drive home to me… Bozer was preparing barbeque when I left… And you know he always makes enough for leftovers, or sudden visits from hungry friends…"

"Sounds like a plan…" Jack smiled, before he lifted his cast up in front of him to study it.

"How long…?"

"Six weeks…" Jack answered, "Until I get the cast off… I have to wait a few weeks more before they take the new hardware out…"

"Pins?"

"And a bolt…" Jack growled, "Or, well… I think they planned on leaving the pins in there… But the screw is coming out in a few months…"

"Sure glad I'm not the one you punched…"

"Yeah, 'bout that…" Jack winced and looked over, waiting to meet two pale blue eyes, "Next time, -stop me…"

Mac barked out in laughter, "Only if you promise not to punch me when I do…"

"Promise…"

"Pinky-promise?"

Jack didn't answer, just held up his left hand with his pinky uncurled.

 **Okay, yeah… I have a slight fixation on Jack's wrist at the moment… Sorry… -not sorry…**

 **Hope you enjoyed…**


	12. Climbing accident

**HEEEEEYYYY! Just decided to add another chapter to this one shot collection of mine…**

"Let's get you up big guy…" Mac grunted as he grabbed Jack's right hand and tried to pull the older man to his feet.

Jack made it about halfway up before he stopped pushing with his feet and tried to sink back to the ground again. The whole ordeal was accompanied by a pained groan.

"Man, you good?"

Jack rolled to his right and trapped his left arm against his torso. He did his best not to touch his elbow OR his shoulder, while supporting both at the same time.

"You good?" Mac repeated.

Jack shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he curled in on himself.

"Broken?"

Jack gasped and let out a growl. "Dunno…"

"Jack!"

Jack opened his eyes and looked pleadingly up at Mac.

"-Is it broken?"

Jack shrugged before his brain managed to tell him that it would be a bad idea. So he let out a guttural cry.

"Broken? Dislocated?" Mac started running through options. "Sprained?"

Jack groaned and nodded.

"Sprained?"

"Hurt!"

Mac winced at the sheer agony in Jack's voice. He knelt down beside the older man and started unbuttoning Jack's shirt.

"Don't…"

Mac stopped what he was doing and looked at Jack. "What?"

"Don't touch…" Jack gasped.

"I'm gonna have to take a look at it you know…"

Jack nodded subtly, before slurring "Juz don't touch…"

Mac went back to unbuttoning Jack's tactical shirt, revealing Jack's bruising and swelling shoulder.

"Jack…" Mac started, "Your shoulder is…"

He searched for the best word to describe the injury.

"I think your collarbone vacationing somewhere it shouldn't be…"

Jack growled, and sucked air through his teeth. "Elbow's worse…"

"It's worse?"

Jack nodded and groaned. "Swear I messed it up good!"

"Do you want me to try to get the shirt off you, or should I just slice the sleeve open?"

"Don't even try to make me strip!"

Mac chuckled, "Strip?"

"Get my clothes off…" Jack winced, "Arm won't approve of that…"

"So?"

"Get your knife up and do your thing…" Jack almost sobbed.

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"Not to alarm you or anything… But…" Mac sighed, "Your elbow is dislocated…"

Jack grunted and tried to get a view of the injured joint, but Mac had cut up the sleeve on the other side, shielding Jack's elbow from his line of sight.

"Feels bad…" he noted.

"Looks bad…" Mac admitted, "Can you feel your hand?"

"Dunno…"

Mac stepped around Jack and knelt down again.

"Okay, you feel this?" he asked as he reached down and brushed his fingers against the back of Jack's hand.

Jack frowned, "Not as much as I expected…"

Mac looked at the arm for a little while, before his brain came up with a game plan. "Close your eyes. I want to check if you feel it because you saw it or because you actually felt it…"

Jack nodded and did like he was told. Less than a second later, Mac had set Jack's elbow. And the older man was once again writhing in pain.

"DAMMIT KID!"

"Sorry…" Mac scratched his neck, "Just gonna test your hand once more, you can keep your eyes open this time if you don't trust me…"

Jack nodded, but let his eyes close when his breath evened out. A subtle way of telling Mac that he still trusted him.

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"I felt that…" Jack breathed a sigh of relief as he felt Mac's fingers brush against his knuckles. He also felt Mac's fingers slipping inside his hand.

"Are you able to squeeze my hand?" Mac asked.

Jack tried, but cussed as his elbow and shoulder lit up with pain. "Nah… Hurts too much…"

"But you did give it a real squeeze." Mac patted the older man on his hip, "That's better than nothing…"

Jack opened his eyes again and sighed. "Think I'm gonna need a little time off after this…"

Mac nodded, "Yeah. Let's secure your arm to your body, and get down from this mountain."

"I'm never going climbing again, voluntarily…"

Mac smirked, "Good thing you added 'voluntarily' there, cause we might end up having to climb on a mission some time in the future…"

Jack nodded and gazed up at the spot he had fallen from. "I really fell all that way?"

Mac nodded, "Yeah, that's a two-story drop… At least…"

Jack groaned and took as deep of a breath as he dared to, "No wonder almost everything hurts…"

"You need me to call for a helicopter?" Mac asked, "Ambulance?"

Jack shook his head, "Got up here on my own. I'll damn well get down from here without a bird picking me up!"

Mac was already making some sort of sling to support Jack's arm. "You know you can change your mind whenever you decides that it hurts too much to hike down the steep hill from here…"

"Good thing we didn't make it up past the first ledge before this happened." Jack winced, "At least we won't have to actually CLIMB down from here…"

Mac almost chuckled, "Well, you won't have to climb or rappel, but it's steep…"

"Let's just get home, alright…"

 **Hope you enjoyed!**


	13. Smashed fingers

**What about some hurt!Mac for once… It's been a while since I did that…**

 **-But what kind of setting? Hmmm…  
Oh, got it!**

Fear gripped him before the pain did. That almost eternal second from when you know you've messed up until the pain hits. It was insufferable.

He yanked at his left hand, it didn't come loose. Thankfully?

That long, eternal, second where you know you've got your fingers trapped between the fork of a forklift and the extender you tried to put on it. The second where you wonder if your fingers are still attached or not. Actually, you're pretty damn certain that they are now no longer connected to your hand. (Well, thankfully his hand didn't come loose in that first attempt at pulling his hand towards himself.)

Mac swallowed hard before he tried to lift the extender, it wouldn't budge. His middle and ring fingers were trapped between metal on metal, and pain was starting to present itself.

"Shit…" he gasped, he had to try not to make too much noise. Like always on a mission they tried not to get noticed. A second later he followed it up by a groan. Now his hand really hurt.

"Mac?" Jack had been a couple yards away, putting oil barrels up on pallets and securing them there. But he had looked up at the metallic 'clang' two seconds ago. "You good kid?"

Mac shook his head, he didn't trust his voice. It was probably for the best, he was pretty sure that if he opened his mouth at all right now, he would let out a loud cry. That was what he wanted to anyway. Instead he just pointed frantically to his left hand with his right one.

"Oh shit!" Jack frowned as he saw what Mac was trying to show him. "You've got your fingers jammed there?"

Mac nodded, tears were stinging in his eyes.

"Can't get loose?" Jack asked as he jogged over. Mac shook his head.

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Jack grimaced as he looked down at Mac's trapped fingers. He guessed the single extender weighed about 90 lbs, but for all he knew it could be the double. Luckily all that weight wouldn't be directly on Mac's fingers, but then again a quarter of that weight would be enough to do some serious damage if it dropped directly on top of a finger or two. Jack had been there, done that…

"Okay, Imma try to lift it up. You pull your hand outta there…" Jack instructed and gave Mac's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Mac nodded.

Jack bent down and grabbed a hold around the steel, close to the opening where Mac's hand was trapped. He really didn't like the quiet whimper that came from Mac as he did so.

"Okay, on three…" Jack looked up at Mac, preparing the kid. "One. Two. Three!"

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Jack lifted the extender, and Mac pulled his hand out.

He was relieved to be free, but that emotion was quickly pushed away when the pain radiating from his fingers intensified by what felt like a thousand times. As a reflex he shook his hand, but that only made it worse.

It was just barely that he avoided to cry out in pain. Just barely.

"Let me see that." Jack demanded as he held out his own hand.

Mac shook his head and shielded his left hand with his right arm.

"Mac, let me see it!" Jack demanded again, his voice a bit more stern than the first time.

Mac gave in and stretched his hand out towards Jack. It was a bloody mess, but all of his fingers were still of full length.

His hand was shaking so bad. He had no control over it. He tried to still it, but it was to no use.

"That doesn't look good…" Jack commented as he wrapped one hand around Mac's wrist, turning the hand over to see the inside of his fingers too. "Can you move 'em?"

"Really don't want to…" Mac bit out.

"Could you try?"

He tried, and instinctively jerked his hand towards himself. Same reaction as when you touch something hot, or get zapped by a little electricity. –You pull your hand away from what's hurting you.

"Not much… Copy that." Jack frowned.

"Gah… It's pounding!" Mac growled, squeezing his eyes shut.

Jack pulled Mac's hand back, closer to himself. "Yeah, cause you squished your fingers!"

"It HURTS!"

"I know kid…" Jack nodded, "Okay, you're gonna need some stitches here… And we should get it X-rayed…"

Mac nodded, still with his eyes closed.

"And those nails…" Jack winced, knowing exactly how painful black nails could be, "-Wait. You've got a paperclip? I know you've got a paperclip somewhere on ya…"

"What?" Mac gritted out, "What do you need a paperclip for?"

"Just give me one if you have… You'll probably thank me later…" Jack rushed, holding out his free hand.

It didn't take long before Mac was able to provide a paperclip for Jack. He didn't have to search further than his right pant pocket.

"Now, sit down. You're pale, and I don't want you to collapse…" Jack ordered and guided Mac to the open forklift door. Placing Mac on one of the steps up to the cabin.

Mac nodded, and took to studying his hand while Jack bent and untwisted the paperclip, making it one long wire. Then he pulled out a Zippo lighter from his own jacket, lighting it up with one quick gesture.

Jack then proceeded to heat up the paperclip until it was glowing.

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Mac felt a little uneasy as Jack waved for him to extend his hand again, but he trusted Jack.

"I'll be real gentle, but I will have to steady those fingers…" Jack nodded towards Mac's hand. He had placed the burning Zippo on the concrete floor and was kneeling in front of Mac. He still had the paperclip held over the flame.

Mac grimaced as he placed his hand in Jack's free one. His fingers were painful, scratch that… His whole damn hand was painful! And it wasn't much better when Jack's thumb pressed down against the back of his hand.

His breath hitched, and Jack muttered an apology, Mac tried to wave it off as nothing. Jack didn't fall for it.

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Jack pressed the end of the red hot paperclip onto the nail of Mac's middle finger. His trick didn't work on the first attempt so he had to reheat the clip and do it again. And he KNEW it hurt for Mac, even without the sharp inhales, and the shaky exhales.

"Sorry kid…"

"It's fine…" Mac whispered breathlessly.

"No… I know this hurts…"

Mac didn't answer.

Jack brought the glowing paperclip back up and pressed it down where he already had made a dent in the nail.

Suddenly a squirt of blood erupted from the hole the paperclip had made, relieving the pressure under Mac's nail.

Mac cussed and grimaced.

"It's going to be better this way… Trust me…" Jack promised, "You won't believe how many times I smashed my fingers back when I was a kid, building treehouses and working on my dad's farm…"

"I trust you…" Mac swallowed hard.

"Now, I'm gonna do the same to your ring finger nail…" Jack informed, "Then I should probably find something to splint those fingers of yours with. Cause they might be broken, and even if they aren't, moving them ain't gonna be good…"

Mac nodded and let Jack go to work on his ring finger too.

 **Okay, reason I wrote this is because there has been a LOT of hand injuries in our family the last week.**

 **Started with me slicing the side of my hand open on a broken glass bowl. Just uphill of a 1 inch (3cm cut) . -2 stitches-**

 **Then my cousin once removed gets his hand/fingers jammed under something at his workplace. (Don't really know how that one turned out. But the way it was described didn't sound any good.)**

 **And then my wonderful cousin (might as well call her little sister) cuts her finger in an attempt of cutting up a FROZEN banana. "DUDE! IF YOU EVER READ THIS! DON'T CUT FROZEN BANANAS! CUT THEM UP BEFORE YOU FREEZE THEM! Idjit…" -3 stitches-**

 **Let's hope that's it for this round…**

 **(And, that feeling of certainty that you've chopped off a finger… One of the worst feelings ever… AM I RIGHT? –yeah… Been there twice. Very relieved both times that all my fingers were still there…)**


	14. 2x04 stuck in the armored car

**Okay, this comes as a little tag to 2x04, the end scene anyway.**

Mac winced as he tried to pull his legs to him again. His left ankle hurt, but it was nothing compared to the sheer firework that set off inside his right ankle.

"I hate that whistling maniac…" a voice groaned beside him, "We've gotta get rid of him…"

"You good?" Mac could hear Jack wasn't, he knew all of the older man's 'tells'. He didn't really need the strained voice to know Jack was in pain too.

"Nah…"

Okay, he admitted it too. That made Mac's eyes dart to his partner, worriedly searching for any clues to the trace of agony in the man's voice. "You hurt?"

"…A bit…"

"Jack…" Mac cleared his voice, "Be specific."

"It's either my leg or my ankle…" Jack gasped, "And I don't know if it's broken or dislocated. And I my knee is bruised or something."

Mac looked towards Jack's legs, "Right or left?"

"The one I usually kick with…"

"Right then…"

Jack nodded, "And you? Status?"

"Left ankle sprained, right ankle is worse than the left one…" Mac swallowed, "And my left hand is squished between my back and a metal bar…"

"Broken?"

"Might be…" Mac admitted, "Definitely hurts."

Jack nodded and laid his head back against whatever he had his head up against. Then after about four seconds he looked up again, "Wait…"

"Huh?"

"Do you smell something burning?" he looked around with concern, "Like, oil or gas burning…?"

"CRAP!" they both exclaimed as they realized how messed up their situation was.

They both struggled to get free, neither coming anyway with the task.

"Wait… Cage."

"Cage! Are you alright back there?" Jack called out as loud as his lungs would allow him.

"Yeeeeah…" the answer wasn't as clear and confident as men would have liked, but it would do.

"Are you stuck?" Mac asked, his voice was full of urgency.

"Nah…" the blonde woman answered, "But my head is hurting and the world is spinning off its axis…"

"You've got a concussion?" Jack asked.

"I think so…"

"Look, we're both stuck and hurt here in front. And the car is burning." Jack drawled like he had all the time in the world, "Think you could, uh… Think you could crawl up front here and help get us loose?"

"Yeah… Just give me a minute."

"WE AIN'T GOT A MINUTE LADY!" Jack's fake calm had disappeared in a split second, "IF YOU DIDN'T CATCH IT, THE FREAKING CAR IS ON FIRE!"

"On fire?"

"Yeah, burning!" Jack repeated.

"That's not good!"

"Jeeez… How hard did you hit your head girl?"

"It hurts…"

Jack looked over at Mac and rolled his eyes, "Mac, could you get her to help us?"

Mac shrugged, but yelped when something in his hand or wrist moved in a way it SHOULDN'T.

"What was that?" Cage slurred.

"Mac's hurt…" Jack attempted, happy to hear the blonde scrambling to get to them.

"Hurt?"

"Yeah, and I am too…" Jack winced, "In case you wondered."

"Guys, the car is on fire…"

"WE KNOW!" Mac called out.

"I need to get you out of there…"

"Couldn't agree more." Jack sighed, "Could you hurry a bit?"

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Three minutes later, thanks to the law of the lever, both men were free from the burning wreck. Cage had managed to help them away from the armored vehicle, about 40 yards or so.

"Hey, shouldn't we like get as far away from that burning mess as possible? Won't it explode or something?"

"No, that's Hollywood Jack…" Mac winced, "It might end up as a fireball, but it won't go kaboom like you think it will…"

"You sure?"

"Pretty. Since it's the vaporized gas that burns and not the liquid. And besides, most gas tanks are made of some sort of plastic, it will melt and there won't be any closed box to rip open and explode from." Mac nodded and looked down at his right hand which was already swelling, "And don't be afraid if you hear something go kaboom. The tires will likely do so…"

"Even if they belong on an armored vehicle?"

Mac shrugged, "If they're not solid rubber, yeah…"

"I don't like this man…" Jack drawled as they heard sirens in the distance. "I'm gonna end that ugly ass psychic…"

"Psychopath." Both Mac and Cage corrected.

"Whatever. He needs to be ended!" Jack growled.

 **Okay, hope you enjoyed this little tag.**


	15. Yogi

**Okay, I just felt like making another small H/C chapter. We'll see where this takes us.**

"Any chance we might get lucky?" Jack whispered out of the corner of his mouth as he studied the giant animal in front of them.

"Think we used up our luck reserve on the last mission…" Mac answered coldly.

"Yeah, that _was_ lucky…" Jack made a minimalistic nod. "It won't do us much good if I shoot it either…"

"Probly not."

"Small firearm, even with a bullet to the heart it could easily go on for a frantic minute or so." Jack winced, "I've seen deer and moose run for a quarter mile after a perfect lung-heart shot. Imagine if Yogi over there decides to beat that… We don't want that…"

"No, we certainly don't…" Mac agreed as he felt his heart hammer in his chest.

"This definitely isn't on my bucket list…" Jack fuzzed.

"Oh, it's not? You mean 'being right between mama Grizzly and baby Grizzlies' aren't right up there with 'fight Putin in space' and reading all the Harry Potter books?"

"Seeing a Grizzly, sure. Being in the middle between a mom and her cubs? Sure as hell not! Sure you don't have a great idea to get us out of this jam just about now?"

"I'm torn between standing completely still and acting like a tree, and dropping down and playing dead."

"Do you have to use words like 'torn' and 'dead' right now, cause that's the words they'll use to describe our bodies if we pick the wrong option. –Along with 'mauled'."

"I know, Jack." Mac whispered back harshly, not moving an inch. "Only thing I know not to do is to run…"

"Yeah, that would be a bad idea…" Jack nodded. "That's pretty much universal, isn't it? Don't run from predators? They'll just chase you and kill you?"

"Pretty much…" Mac nodded, "At least from what I can remember right now."

"Let's not do that…" Jack squeezed his eyes shut.

"Yeeeeah…" Mac whispered.

"Could charge if we move to drop down, could charge if we don't…"

"Exactly…" Mac took a deep breath, "A shot to the brain or spine should take it down…"

"Look, I might be able to pull off a shot that hits its head, but there's no guarantee that my gun is strong enough to actually go through its skull at this distance. I think bears have pretty thick skulls. And I don't have a good shot at its spine."

"Dammit…"

"Exactly…" Jack agreed.

"Riley… Can you hear us?" Mac asked thin air, hoping that the radio was transmitting and that the signal was strong enough.

No answer.

"Crap." Jack whispered, shutting his eyes for a brief moment.

"Crap, indeed." Mac swallowed,

"Now why don't we have any bear spray with us…?" Jack wondered in a mildly bitter tone, directed mostly at the Phoenix Foundation.

"Well, bears aren's meant to be in this area."

"Try and tell that to Queen Elinor over there!" Jack whispered harshly.

"Whaaat?" Mac scrounged up his face, "Queen Elinor?"

"A queen in the Disney movie Brave. Watched it with a few of my nieces the last time I was back home. She turns into a bear. And, she has triplets."

"Well, you know I like accuracy, but right now I'm not all for it…" Mac glanced over at Jack without moving his head.

"Or we could just call her Yogi…" Jack offered, almost shrugging his shoulders but stopping himself before he did so. "Or Bobo…"

"Not Bobo. That sounds like a clown." Mac frowned.

"Sorry kiddo…" Jack almost winced, "In the middle of this truly terrifying event I forgot your disdain towards clowns… But compared to everything else we're up against…"

"Compared to everything else we're up against, it's an equally valid phobia to heights or needles."

"Yeah. Sorry bud…"

They fell silent. Minutes crawled by, slow as molasses in wintertime. Neither dared to move, neither dared to think where this might end.

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After what felt like three hours, a twig nearby them snapped under the weight of something. Something neither Jack nor Mac could control. And even if it wasn't their fault that a deer or whatever had broken a twig near them, Mama Bear decided they needed to pay for it.

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It felt like a truck rammed into him. Or no, better, a WALL RAN INTO HIM. A solid mass with great velocity hit him, and he was airborne. The short second he was in the air seemed more like five. Lots of time to think. –Until his back and head connected to a tree trunk and all he could think was 'Damn, that hurt.'

He managed to fall down on his belly, covering his neck with his hands and arms. He didn't seem to find the strength to curl up in a ball, so this would just have to do.

His head was blurry, everything was blurry. His vision, sound… Even smell was blurry. He didn't think smell could be blurry, not before now at least.

It sounded like a rhino trampled around somewhere close to him, but still far away. Something sounded like a struggle nearby, but his head hurt too much to even think about opening his eyes.

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Jack's heart nearly stopped when he saw the big brown bear charge at them. It sent Mac flying, with impressive airtime. Jack could hear a sickening thud as Mac obviously hit something solid and then sank down somewhere outside of Jack's vision.

The massive brown furry creature seemed to change direction on a dime, and Jack wasn't even sure if that should be possible for those animals. Not that the animal in question seemed to care much about his doubts.

A quarter second later he was on the ground with a frantic wild animal on top of him.

He felt long claws tear into him, his right thigh, his chest, stomach, strong jaws closed around his left shoulder until he heard a loud crack and pain started radiating through his shoulder and arm.

Warm liquid flooded down the side of abdomen. He wanted to scream, wanted to flee.

He frantically reached for his gun. Shooting the bear a couple of minutes ago had been too risky, but now it was his only option.

He fired two bullets into the torso of the bear. It jumped off of him long enough for him to roll up on one knee and fire another three shots into the head of the grizzly.

There was no way to describe the relief that flooded his heart when he saw the animal go down, but it didn't last him long. Only a mere second after realizing he had neutralized the threat of the wild animal, he realized his own grim situation.

Clasping his right hand down on the largest gash across his abdomen, he fell back on his ass. Gasping he called for MacGyver.

Only a faint moan answered him, he called out again. A little more panic in his voice this time.

"Yeah…?" In any other situation Jack would have chuckled at the sleepiness in Mac's voice, but not this time. That sleepiness might be the sign of something like a concussion or something. And right now Jack knew he would be dependent on Mac to move, with the wounds on his leg and torso he wouldn't be able to walk out of here on his own. And to be honest he wasn't sure if he would last ten more minutes if Mac didn't find a way to stop him from bleeding out.

MACGYVER2O16MACGYVER2O16

He heard something sounding like the shortened version of his name. Something that started with M and ended with C. He needed to answer.

"MAC!" This time the sound was a little clearer, clear enough for Mac to realize it was Jack who was calling for him.

"Hey! Kid!"

This time Mac managed to call out to answer. It probably came out as just a moan, but Jack's voice sounded relieved either way.

"Hey kid, you awake?" a new sense of urgency laced Jack's voice and Mac managed to open his eyes just a little and find the form he recognized as Jack.

"Jack?" Mac pulled himself up to his elbows when he figured something wasn't as it should be. There was something weird with his friend's voice, and then when he managed to focus his eyes he realized Jack was covered with some sort of red liquid.

Blood. That's blood you dumbass.

"Hell Jack!" Mac called out as he scrambled to his feet a little too quickly for his head's liking. "Shit, are you okay?"

"No." Jack croaked out, almost too calm. "Mama bear almost gutted me."

"What can I do?"

"Find the med kit. Get sutures." Jack winced, "Or duct tape or whatever… Help patch me up."

"Gosh… You're bleeding a lot…"

"Have seen worse." Jack coughed, then cussed as it ripped at every single one of his wounds, "But we need to stop it quickly. So… chop chop."

MACGYVER2O16MACGYVER2O16

15 minutes later Mac had patched Jack up to the best of his abilities and their supplies.

"Well, lucky for you none of the gashes to your upper body went past your abdominal muscles." Mac announced as he taped a square of clean cloth over one of the particularly long gashes he had stitched up, "The bad news is that it'll be hell for you to move, and the stitches might not hold if you move too much."

Jack nodded gently, "You get radio contact?"

"Radio?" Mac looked confused at him, before a light dawned on him. "Oh, the radio! Just a moment."

Jack grimaced and squinted over at Mac, "Heck, how hard did you hit that head of yours? Actually, don't answer that. I don't wanna know before we're outta this mess."

"Let's settle on 'I'm-gonna-feel-that-one-for-a-while'…" Mac frowned as he pressed on a small button on his ear piece activating the mic again. Secretly cussing himself for switching it off in the first place. "Riley?"

"Hey boys, how's the fresh air treating you?"

"Riley, it's so good to hear your voice!" Mac cheered, "We need medevac. STAT!"

"Medevac? What happened?" Riley asked, suddenly more alarmed.

"We got a little close encounter with the local wildlife. Jack's lost a bit of blood, might need surgery. I've got a splitting headache, used my head the way Jack usually uses his."

"You head-butted someone?"

"A tree. I flew head-first into a tree…" Mac clarified.

"Ouch."

"Can you send a chopper?" Mac requested, "Jack probably shouldn't attempt to hike out of here, and I won't be much help I'm afraid. I've got this tilt-a-whirl thing going on…"

"Oh, alright." Riley paused and Mac could hear typing from her side, "Yup, a helicopter is now on the way."

"Good." Mac nodded, then he looked over at the dead bear with three cubs crawling on it, "Riley?"

"Yeah."

"Can you get someone to come here and take care of three grizzly cubs?"

"What now?"

"That local wildlife I mentioned. It was a grizzly and three cubs. Jack had to shoot it when it was on top of him. The three cubs probably won't make it without their mother."

There was a prolonged pause with lots of typing going on on Riley's end before she answered, "Yep, the three cubs will now be taken care of. Three cubs, that's a lot!"

"The litter size is usually 1 to 4, but the average is 2 or 3…" Mac answered automatically, "Hey, did you say you were sending lift for us?"

"Yes, and it looks like the chopper coming for you and Jack just lifted off. It should be at your location in 25 then, you think you guys can manage that long?"

"As long as we don't get any more furry visitors I think we will manage. Jack's looking good, bleeding wasn't as bad as I first thought. But he's gonna need some refill anyway." Mac noted.

Beside him he heard Jack clear his throat a little before the older agent with a smug smile on his lips set daring brown eyes on him, "You think I look good?"

"Shut up…" Mac rolled his eyes, instantly regretting it, "I meant, you're still breathing, still alive, not dead. Do not let it get to your head."

"Too late." Jack smirked, and winced as he tried to pull a breath, "Damn this hurts."

"What's the worst of it?"

"Dunno, I think it broke a couple of ribs while it was using me as a trampoline. And it definitely did something bad to my shoulder. Most of the wounds aren't as bad now that I no longer believe that I'm gonna bleed out any minute."

Mac nodded, winced and brought his hands up to support his head. "That's good Jack. Good."

MACGYVER2O16MACGYVER2O16

Half an hour later, they were both inside the helicopter and on their way back to get medical attention.

 **Okay, so I saw that Daniela Faber on Instagram/Twitter had a 'wishlist for MacGyver 2018'  
Stuff like:  
-More shirtless Mac (I support that one)  
-More singing Jack (Support that one too…)  
-More Mac and Jack in funny costumes (I seriously LOVED the Santa and Rudolph costumes XD)  
There were more things on her wish list, but I'm too lazy to copy all of them.**

 **But here comes a few of my own (both fanfic and canon):  
-I wish for Jack wearing a sling for a little while (and I liked what I saw as a sneak peek on 's Insta story.)  
-Jack. On crutches. (Don't judge. I write mostly H/C fanfic, what do you expect?)  
-Mac totally outclassing someone in hand to hand combat. (Preferably a close race for a little while, but then he gets in one good hit and from there on out it's all easy for our guy.)  
-Riley being the BADASS BITCH that she is! (And I mean that in the nicest way possible! She's awesome.)  
-I wish to see Riley scare some hardcore badass senseless, without the regular threat of something computer-related.  
-I want to see Jack going on a date, (But I don't want him to end up in any relationship. I know I'm kind of a hypocrite there, I mean… Michelle…)  
-Matty being BADASS. I need more of that.  
-Bozer sneaking off to his secret girlfriend. I need more of that too!**


End file.
